She needed a cave, my arms
are wings.
She sought words, I continued
to scream.
She asked for quiet, a second
chance.
I wanted a battle, a shot at
redemption.
We wiggled about in her black silk
sheets, cacooning ourselves with flesh,
hiding from days, pretending nights
rolled into each other like waves,
love leaking like blood; nightmares, dreams
and regret strung up like Christmas lights -
so the whole world could see what was coming
everyone except me, anger
makes us blind, deaf to all
but inner voices, desperate
for another round when the bell
has rung, the door slammed shut
and without ever knowing how
it came about I sat beside the table,
telephone in hand, dial tone,
the New Greek oracle, signalling
a finality the heart understood far
more than the mind ever would.
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